What I Need
by Matthew White
Summary: Oneshot: Set after Hail and Farewell Pt 2. A continuation of the scene on the beach and after. Mac POV.


**What I Need**

**A JAG Short Story**

Written by Matthew R. White

© April 13, 2014

Based on the Characters and series created by Donald P. Bellisario

...

**Historian's Note: **This story is a continuation of the episode _Hail and Farewell; Part II_ written by Stephen Zito.

**Author's Note:** While this story is slightly AU, it does fit in with most of the events of season ten, especially if you assume that Harm and Mac were seeing each other on the QT. I hated the way this episode ended, yet another lost opportunity passed by DPB and the gang. This is written in first person from Mac's POV. This story is not connected to any of my other work.

...

"…I appreciate the offer," I say to my closest and dearest friend, smiling at him for the first time. Regardless of everything that has transpired between us, he is still that, and somehow I know that he always will be.

"But?" he replies, sensing my hesitation.

"…So much more to talk about than just Webb," I answer, mentally sorting through the turmoil which has become my life. How can I discuss things with him that I don't yet understand myself?

"Well Mac, when you're ready, let me know, huh?"

As he stands up from his spot on the beach, I can see the hurt and confusion in his eyes. Part of me, the part which has always been in love with him, is urging me to get up and stop him from leaving, to let him wrap me in his arms and take my pain away. But I feel so dead inside and I just watch him walk further down the beach. I want to cry, but the tears will not come.

The last two weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster, no, make that the last year, starting with Harm having to stand trial for murder. During the incident, I wasn't allowed to visit him in the brig, nor was I allowed to defend him as I was named as a potential prosecution witness, thanks to his clandestine and unofficial investigation into Singer's pregnancy. It still stings that he didn't take me into his confidence even though I understand his reasons. And then there was the mess in Paraguay, Harm's resignation and stint with the CIA, My relationship with Webb…the list goes on.

I've always blamed Harm for our relationship never getting to the next level, but as I watch him walking away, I have to be honest with myself. It wasn't all his fault, I never should have accepted Mic's ring, I shouldn't have told him that 'us' would never work, and I certainly shouldn't have gotten involved with Clayton Webb.

I realize that I am doing the same thing I have accused Harm of throughout the years, as I think about his remark at the Admiral's Dining Out. "I tired of looking in on your life, Mac," he had said. "I want to be a part of it." It was the closest he had ever come to saying he wanted more than just friendship. And while I told him I wasn't ready, part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind, the same part of me that is urging me to get off my six and chase after him.

I don't remember getting to my feet, nor do I realize that I am running for all I'm worth. I only can think about what I am going to say when I finally catch up with him. When I get close enough to where I think he can hear me, I yell out his name.

"Harm!"

"Damn you, flyboy," I curse, as he doesn't hear me the first time.

"HARM!"

This time, I manage to get his attention and I see him stop and turn around. The expression on his face is one of surprise, amusement, and suddenly concern, as he starts jogging back towards me.

As I close the gap between us, I reach out and wrap him in my arms, almost knocking him over in the process. My face is buried in his chest and I cling tightly to him, relaxing only as I feel his arms slowly surrounding me. It is then that the dam of emotions breaks wide open and my body is wracked with uncontrollable sobbing. His shirt becomes saturated with my tears as a year's worth of sorrow and regrets come pouring to the surface. Neither of us says a word, yet he comforts me by stroking my hair and caressing my back. I'm so wrought with emotion that my internal clock has failed me for the first time in recent memory.

Eventually, I don't really know how long, my sobbing subsides and the tears stop falling. I feel a wave of fatigue pass over me and I find myself fighting the urge to sleep. My body starts to go limp and it's only Harm's firm hold on me which keeps me from falling.

"Hey there, ninja girl, you okay?"

"Yeah," I reply. "Just tired…drained." I force myself to stay awake and add. "Harm, we need to talk…"

"Later," he interrupts. "Right now, I need to get you home. We can talk then."

I decide not to argue with him, I know he's right. Slowly, we make our way back to the Webb family waterfront home to gather our belongings. When we arrive at the house, Webb is still there waiting for us, or more to the point, waiting for me.

"Sarah?" Clay begins, "can I speak to you for a minute?"

I glance up to Harm and give him a look, hoping he can still read my expression in spite of us not being as close as we once were. I'm not disappointed as he says, "I'll bring these things to the car and wait for you there."

...

Once Clay and I are alone, he begins to make his case.

"Let's talk about this, Sarah? You and I, we were building something together…"

"That's the problem, Clay," I interrupt. "You used me in an operation without telling me what I was up against, and this isn't the first time. Damn it, Clay, I had a right to know. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were safer not knowing, Sarah. If Tanveer even suspected that you knew what was happening, he would have slit your throat and not thought twice about it…"

"Save it, Clayton," I say, mad as hell now. "Not only did you drag me into this mess, you put Harm at risk as well. Tanveer would have killed all three of us had it not been for your mother."

I don't really know what pissed me off more, everything that he has done to me, or the fact that Harm could have been killed…

"So, this is really all about Rabb?" Clay interjects, interrupting my thoughts.

"No Clay," I lie, "this isn't about Harm, it's about being honest with each other. You talk about building something together; well you can't build a relationship on lies and deceit. You're seldom around, and even when you're with me, you're somewhere else, and you can't even talk about it. We can never make any plans without worrying about you being called away at a moment's notice. I can't, and I won't live like that."

Truth be told, I am pissed off that Harm found himself in deep water trying to save my sorry six, for the second time in a year. Three, if I count the battery Sadik rigged to explode in his car.

"You want the truth, Sarah," said Clay. "I'm glad Rabb was watching out for you. In fact, I was counting on it."

"WHAT!" I yell, still unable to believe what I've just heard.

"Face it, Sarah. I wasn't in a position to watch over you, but Rabb was. He proved that in Paraguay."

"And you're damned lucky," I spit back. "He saved your sorry ass as well and look how we repaid him. Unless that was your plan all along; using him as your backup?"

"Honestly?"

I look at him with a sudden realization. "You did use him as your backup. Is that why you agreed to go after Gunny with me?"

"You know me better than that, Sarah…"

"No, Clay, I don't know you at all." You cold hearted bastard. "Stay away from me, stay away from Harm. Neither one of us want anything to do with you, the CIA, or your lame brained schemes."

I turn and storm out of the house before I do the man bodily harm. Quickly I climb into the passenger seat of Harm's Lexus and close the door. It's after dusk and I feel, rather than see his eyes on me.

"Get me out of here, Harm," I say, my voice sounding hollow and empty.

...

On the long drive home, I spend most of my time looking out the window. The fatigue I felt earlier is gone, replaced by the rage I still feel towards Clayton Webb. Harm seems to have sensed my mood and has chosen to remain quiet, something I am grateful for. I have no wish to snap at him for something that isn't his fault. I've hurt him too many times this past year and yet he has still chosen to stay by my side. Part of me wishes that he would move on without me as I feel I don't deserve his friendship, and I certainly don't deserve his love. Another part is still clinging to the hope that there is an 'us' in our future.

By the time we have made it to the interstate, my anger towards Webb has subsided. I'm still pissed as hell, but at least I'm not likely to take it out on someone else, especially the man sitting in the car next to me.

I look over at him for the first time since I got in the vehicle. It's dark but his face is illuminated by the glow of the instrument panel, and I can make out his features. He is in a contemplative mood, I can tell, but other than that, I'm unable to read his expression.

I reach for his hand hoping he sees it as a sign it is safe to speak and I ask, "Penny for your thoughts?"

He squeezes my hand but I see a level of discomfort as he replies, "A lot of crazy stuff, Mac."

His answer intrigues me so I press on.

"How so?"

"If I tell you what I'm thinking you might feel pressured. I promised you I wouldn't do that."

As I suspected, he's thinking about us. The prospect both terrifies and excites me. My curiosity gets the better of my fear and I respond, "You're not pressuring me if I'm the one asking the question."

He seems to weigh his answer for a moment. "Why did you come after me?"

"I'll answer that if you tell me why you left." I know this is a bad habit we have, but I really want to know why he felt the need to leave me alone.

"I didn't think you were ready to talk, Mac."

"I wasn't, but that doesn't mean I wanted you to leave," I reply.

"Is that why you chased after me?"

"It's one reason," I say. Before he can ask, I continue, "Despite everything that has happened between us, you are still, and always will be my closest friend. The truth is, Harm, this thing between us, it goes much deeper than friendship. What we have seems to elude any definition, any description. When things are right, it is special beyond words. When things are screwed up, well, I think you get the picture."

"You were right, Mac," he said out of the blue. "Back on the _Watertown_ when you said there might be deeper issues, you were right. The problem is, and always has been, if I ever admitted it to myself, I'd be forced to do something about it. My bringing up our deal at the Admiral's Dining Out wasn't by accident. I screwed things up for us by not telling you how I felt back when I returned to flying, in Sydney, in Paraguay…hell…a few months ago you asked me if I wanted to push you in to Clay's arms, I could have told you then."

As I listen to him, I feel my heart jump into overdrive. I know I'm not in the right frame of mind to hear this but I press on wondering if I had been misreading him as well.

"What didn't you tell me?" I ask.

"Mac, Sarah," he said. "It's probably not what you need to hear right now…"

"What I need," I say, cutting him off, "is to hear the truth."

He locks eyes with me for a moment. It's a good thing we are sitting at a stop sign as I wouldn't have wanted his eyes off the road this long. While I wait for his answer, he pulls the car off to the side and gives me his full attention.

"In that case," he begins, taking my hand in both of his. "I should never have said 'you know why,' what I should have said is; I love you, Sarah MacKenzie. I'm in love with you, and I have been for a very long time."

Before I can respond, Harm has pulled us back onto the highway. We are still about thirty minutes from home and his declaration has left me speechless. I always suspected that he felt this way but it infuriated me not knowing for sure. Now that I do know for sure, my world has just been flipped upside down. I know I'm not ready for this, not yet, but this has been my heart's desire for so very long. I pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming.

I look back over at Harm knowing he is waiting for a response, any response. For a brief moment, I could have sworn that I saw a smug grin on his face for making me speechless, but his eyes had spoken the truth, they always speak the truth. When he told me that he loved me, that truth was reflected in his eyes.

"You're only half right," I finally say. "I didn't expect to hear you say this, but as long as we are being honest, I love you too, flyboy, and yes, I've been in love with you for a very long time. That being said, I'm not ready to jump into an intimate relationship with you just yet, no matter how much my heart wants to."

This time, it's his turn to be silent and I allow him to process what I just told him. In his face I can see both elation and disappointment and for once I think I fully understand. But I know that if this is our chance to finally get it right, we need to clean out all the garbage we have collected over the years.

"Tell me what you need, Sarah," he says at last.

"Time, mostly," I reply. "Time to get my head straight, to put some things in perspective, time to heal; I think we both need that. This last year has been hell on both of us. I need to find out how serious my endometriosis has affected my reproduction system. I won't know that until I have a follow up with my GYN in October. That's four months from now. As I told you, Harm, the prognosis is not good. Dr. Purcell estimates a twenty five percent chance of being able to have a child. I know that you want children and I don't want you to have to give that dream up for me…"

"Sarah," he begins. "I only want children if I can have them with you. I meant what I said when I told you that it doesn't matter to me how it happens, as long as it happens between us."

This time I believe him. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he has, for the first time, openly expressed his love. He had said the same thing the night of the Admiral's Dining Out, but, for some reason I wasn't quite convinced even seeing the truth in his eyes.

"Do you mean that, flyboy?" I ask, despite the fact he has convinced me.

"On my honor as a naval officer," he replies.

I know he is serious. Harm considers his military honor something not to be taken for granted. It is one of the things I dearly love about him. His next words take me by surprise.

"Is four months a long enough separation for you?" he asked.

Where in the world did this come from, I ask myself. It's obvious that he misunderstood something that I said.

"What's this about a separation, Harm?"

"You just told me that you need time to sort things out. I just assumed that you wouldn't want me hovering around while you do…"

"First of all, flyboy," I say, with a bit of conviction. "Don't assume. I said I needed time, not necessarily space. While I might need some time alone every now and then, I want to get reacquainted with my best friend. He's been absent in my life for far too long. I need someone I can talk to; someone who knows me and someone I trust. I'm going to need some help sorting through all the junk that has made up my life. I want to get to know Mattie and, if she is okay with it, I'd like to be included on some of your plans together."

"I think she would really like that, Sarah," he says, "but as far as your issues, while I am more than willing to listen, have you considered seeing a therapist to help you sort through some of this?"

"What? You think I need to see a shrink," I ask, fighting to keep my temper in check. He knows how much I loathe the psychiatry profession. "I only saw one last year because the Admiral ordered me to!"

"Mac, this isn't a question I can answer," he says calmly. "I only brought it up because seeing a therapist helped me after my ramp strike. Only you can decide if seeing one can help you. I will say this; don't bother going unless you can do so with an open mind."

I force myself to cool my heels. Harm isn't being crass or vindictive, in fact, his concern for my well being warms my heart, but the memories of my sessions with Commander McCool are not pleasant and I swore to avoid ever having to go through that again. Of course, being completely honest, I didn't exactly approach the sessions with an open mind.

"You're right," I say to him. "I didn't mean to snap at you. But don't expect me to run back to the shrinks without some real reason for doing so."

"No one can make that decision for you, Sarah," he says. "It has to be something that you want to do. I promise not to bring it up again unless you want me to."

Throughout the conversation I have been holding his hand. I give it a squeeze to let him know I appreciate him not pressuring me on this. For a while, I consider his suggestion. Going to one or two sessions can't really hurt, can it? I dismiss the idea for now, knowing I can always think about it later.

...

By the time we made it back to my apartment, it was after 20:00. Suddenly, I didn't want to spend the night here alone.

"Harm, is there any reason that you need to go home tonight?"

"Not that I can think of," he replies. "Tomorrow is Saturday so neither one of us have to work."

"Do you mind staying tonight?" I ask. I'm still not sure if I want him to sleep in the bed with me or just be on the couch in case the nightmares return. The bad dreams from Paraguay and more recently from being held by Sadik still trouble me at least three or four time a week and today's incident with Tanveer will probably not help the situation.

"You don't mind?" he asks.

"No, to be honest I could use the company and maybe I can get you to feed me," I say with a grin.

"Sure," he offers. "Do you want Chinese, pizza, or something else?"

"Let's get upstairs and look at one of the places that deliver. It's late and we've been on the road all afternoon."

...

We ended up ordering a pizza, half veggie, half meat lover's. While we ate our dinner, we curled up together on the couch watching a movie, and enjoying each other's company. Since we had talked on the way home, we didn't need to hash out any issues about where we were heading or what the status of our relationship is. By 23:00 we were both ready for bed.

It didn't take me long to decide that I wanted him sleeping beside me tonight. After all, we were both adults and it's not like we haven't shared a bed before. He knows that I'm not ready for physical intimacy and I know he respects me enough to never take advantage of me.

While Harm strips down to his boxers and slides into bed, I rifle through my lingerie looking for something conservative. While Harm is a perfect gentleman, I don't want to tease, tempt, or give him the wrong idea by my choice of attire. Finding nothing that fills the bill, I settle on a long tee shirt, one that I swiped from Harm some years ago. It covers me to about mid thigh and while I'm sure some guys would find me irresistible in it, I feel comfortable with Harm seeing me with it on.

I come out of the bathroom to see an amused look on his face, "I wondered where that shirt had disappeared to."

Humor is the enemy of desire and I'm glad he recognized just what I had on. I climbed into the bed next to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before I turned down the lights. I snuggled up next to him facing the wall and he spooned in behind me, circling my middle with a protective arm.

"Good night, Harm," I say, wondering if I should say the three little words.

"Good night, Mac," he replies. I sense he is not going to say it unless I do and I know it is because he doesn't want to pressure me. A wave of emotion pours over me as I feel loved and protected by the man I have loved for years.

"I love you, Harm."

"I love you too, Sarah," he replies. "Sweet dreams."

As I drift off to sleep, I consider everything we said on the beach today. While I came to realize what I didn't want, I also learned what I need; the unconditional love of the man holding me.

END


End file.
